


Finding a Thousand Words

by Ononymous



Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2020 [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Humans, with their physical forms, are far stronger than us. But they will never know the joy of expressing themselves through magic. They'll never get a bullet-pattern birthday card...Oh they won't, will they? One monster will see about that.
Relationships: Asriel Dreemurr & Frisk
Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924747
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Finding a Thousand Words

It had been a long time since the darkness here had been disturbed. A clunking noise from the center of the floor preceded an end to it. A square wooden slab flipped over on a hinge, flooding light into the low-roofed attic. A ladder poked its way into the darkness, followed by a deeply shadowed head, though its undersides were covered in white fur. His hand reached into the receding darkness and his wrist flicked, summoning a sphere of flame to float over his head and fully vanquish the gloom. Climbing fully into the attic, he looked around. Boxes, dozens of them. Some relatively new and cardboard, some ancient and wooden. One plastic tub with spare bedlinen. Each and everyone labelled with tiny neat handwriting. He knew which one he wanted.

Crawling past a wooden chest with the paper label "DUNGEON TREASURE" taped on it, Asriel made his way over to a stack of four cardboard boxes, the word "CARDS" appended to the one on top. With a lot of grunting he carefully dislodged it from its lofty position and put it down on what little bare floor space remained. He opened it up and saw tons of greeting cards. A human would have thought the cards were rather plain looking. Plain white or brown with minimal images or words on it. Rummaging around, he finally found what he was looking for: one card with a simple five pointed star and the number 8 on it. Opening it up revealed no writing or pictures. Instead, a shower of tiny balls of light slammed into his face, leaving him none the worse for wear. Again in defiance of human expectations, he grinned.

"Perfect."

Downstairs, Toriel was listening to a recital on the radio, glass of wine in hand. The music itself wasn't anything particularly impactful on a personal level, but she was enjoying the craft of all the instruments working together. She was so caught up in how it built to a crescendo she didn't hear someone enter at first.

"Mom? Hey, Mom!"

"Hmm?!" She looked around, saw her son and turned down the radio. "Oh, I'm sorry, Asriel, I had it up too loud. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Well, yeah. Do you remember this...?"

He took out the card and showed her. The change in her expression from curiosity to an earnest smile confirmed that she did indeed remember it. She put down her glass to take it from him and then slowly opened it, experiencing the same shower of magical bolts Asriel had. As they concluded, tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, that was such a lovely birthday. And your cake had all sorts of icing on it. Like a rainbow."

"Yeah," said Asriel, returning her smile. "And what the card says. You mean it?"

"Mean it? Why would I not? More than ever, I stand by it, as I am sure your father does."

"Good. Could you help me?"

"What with?"

Asriel showed her a second greeting card, a much more colourful one, its interior containing a lame joke. "I want to give Frisk this for their birthday, and I want to imprint it with the magic to convey those feelings."

Toriel's smile faded. "My child, surely you know that this type of communication can harm humans."

"Well, yeah, but I thought you'd help me make it not so harmful."

"But... even if I could, if I could render the bolts inert or place a shield over Frisk when they opened the card, that would change what the magic expresses, and that defeats the purpose. Besides, even if its meaning was preserved, doing this would serve no purpose. They could still not understand. Only a human mage could understand communication like this after casting the right spell."

"Are you sure...?" It was Asriel's turn for tears to well in his eyes.

"I do not understand, son. Could you not write something for Frisk instead? You clearly want to convey how you care for them. I thought you were good with your words."

"I am, I can be, but... they all feel clumsy. Nothing quite conveys exactly what I want to say. They're too imprecise. This card got it perfect." He sighed. "And I missed being able to do it."

"Being able to?" Toriel bit her lip briefly, reluctant to bring up his past. "You mean as the flower, you could not understand these...?"

"I could understand what they said," he said, "but I couldn't _feel_ it." The jokey card fell from his hand. "I guess I can't let Frisk know how I truly feel about them. I mean there's one other way, but it's, well, irreversible. Never again."

He found himself in a deep hug, and made no effort to resist. He tried in vein to wrap his own arms around his mother, letting her gently stroke his head.

"...words change..." whispered Toriel.

He struggled to free his mouth from the hug. "Huh?"

"Words change," she repeated. "My child, you are overly concerned with what a dictionary says about words. But sometimes words mean different things to different people. Do you know the number nine?"

Asriel slowly backed out of the hug. "Of course I do."

"Well in German, what sounds like "nine" to you and me actually means "no" to them. Their shared understanding differs from ours. And words that once meant the world to me might mean nothing to you. Asriel, what does 'Aurion' mean to you?"

"Ow-ree-on?" He thought hard. "Is it a person?"

"He was. Your great grandfather."

"Really?"

"Yes. I know we have not concerned you too much with the history of our families from before the war, but that name still has meaning for me. He did two very foolish things with his life. But those foolish things started the path that led me to your father. To you."

Asriel wore a rare expression of wonder. "What did he do?"

"Another time," she said quickly. "But until today, Aurion had no meaning to you, did he? It was merely a collection of sounds. To me it is still a mix of frustration and lamentation, but also pride and joy. Joy for you, if nothing else. Do you understand?"

"...I think so."

"Then if you wish to communicate with Frisk, think of a shared experience you have. That you only have with them. Think of that meaning. Find those words. They will be what you can use, not what a publishing company dictates. Are you willing to try?"

"...yeah. I'll try again!"

"Good. I'd wish you luck, but I have confidence you will not need it."

And she was right. A few days later, among the presents and cake and skeletal whoopee cushions and singing and candles that mischievously re-lit themselves no matter how many times Frisk blew on them, they had a small stack of cards to read. And the last had the most impact.

_Howdy,_

_I've been an idiot, worrying about what you think of me, when I know already what you think. I wasn't the best person, but you've changed that. Even with my soul back, there is not enough love in my body to express how much I care for you. And I should know, I once had every ounce of love in the entire Underground, and it wasn't enough then, either. Think of me as the friend you found a way to stay with a while longer. And don't worry about me. Someone has to take care of themselves, okay?_

_Your Best Friend._

He hadn't bothered signing it with his name. There was no need. The hug he snuck from behind to give them with all his might made it clear who it was from.

**Author's Note:**

> Original suggestion: Asriel wants to give Frisk a bullet-patterned birthday card, but isn't sure how to do it without injuring Frisk.
> 
> Pastebin version: https://pastebin.com/tkPUqVMZ
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
